The Gym, Monday Afternoon

[bitchy_smurf]

Illyria had been less than pleased by finding that no one worth sparring with had been available yesterday due to how late her player pinged into that thread, shh, but she supposed she had managed some of that much-advised 'socialization' at least. Still, words, even exchanged with fellow demons, were no substitute for hitting things, no matter what the demon in question might believe, so. Here she was. At the gym.

Where there was, as Cal had promised, a punching bag. There was also a music system, and the science wasn't so advanced that she couldn't figure out how to load in Pure Disco 1.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified...

The music was nonsensical, but there was something about the words and the beat that made punching and kicking a stationary bag of sand the tiniest bit more satisfactory.

Thinkin' I could never live without you by my side....

The punching bag might not agree. Then again, it also might not survive the experience, so its opinions were of relatively low value to Illyria.

[OOC: Open like a box without a cat in it! P.S. I has a squishee. Mostly Red.]

Comments

[azuldragon.livejournal.com]

The hit was jarring and Azula felt it all the way to her shoulder. She wished she could use her fire now.

Azula turned to the side and knew the punch would have been the end of her if it had connected. She brought up a knee for a strike, attempting the same effect but knowing it would merely graze Illyria's side.

[bitchy_smurf]

Ironically, if she were using her fire, there was a good chance Illyria would be a nice toasty indigo color. At least about the face and neck; it might prove a fun guessing game as to whether the armor would deflect the flame entirely or she'd roast alive inside it.

Grazed she was, though, and she spun with it, letting the momentum drive the twisting kick at Azula's stomach that followed.

[azuldragon.livejournal.com]

Azula leapt over the kick and once again showed she had no qualms or fears getting into the personal space of someone who could take her head off. Kung-fu Firebending was all about aggressive attacks, releasing and focusing motion into devastating action.

Azula released her left hand in a snapping straight arm punch, aimed for Illyria's throat and just as she was about to crush Illyria's throat her hand stilled.

Illyria could take her head off at this range. It was a gamble. They have, metaphorically speaking, knives at each others throats.

Azula's stilled knife on Illyria's throat was an invitation to cease hostilities. For the moment.

[bitchy_smurf]

Illyria's throat might have something to say about the crushing -- in another timeline, even Marcus Hamilton wouldn't quite manage that -- but at the very least, the girl was fast enough that it would have knocked the breath from her, enough to give openings she didn't care to give.

Stopping it, on the other hand -- with the other hand -- would likely end in the very thing she'd said she wouldn't do. Instead, she nodded her own head once, then brought her hand up flat between herself and Azula's fist.

"That is satisfactory."

[azuldragon.livejournal.com]

Azula stepped back. Placed her fist just below her left palm and bowed. "Good fight."